


Hip Movements

by Sandrene09



Series: Tumblr Prompts [7]
Category: Smosh
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3644100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrene09/pseuds/Sandrene09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> Anthony wants to get married to Ian. That’s a fact. </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hip Movements

**Author's Note:**

> For kateipliergame who asked for Ian dancing to “I Really Like You” by Carly Rae Jepsen and Anthony ultimately watching him. Again, I suck at filling prompts. This took so long, I am so sorry. I also took a different direction with your prompt. I am so, so sorry.

Anthony wants to get married to Ian. That’s a fact.

Sadly, that fact is sometimes hard to remember when his days are filled with meetings with different people. It’s difficult to remember that he actually loves Ian and wants to spend the rest of his life with him when he’s talking to passive-aggressive _acquaintances_ who aren’t very pleased to not be part of the wedding party, not to mention talking to close friends who can’t seem to mind their own business.

As much as he and Ian would much prefer to just elope—Anthony’s pretty sure he and Ian don’t really care about the ceremony as long as the honeymoon itself is spectacular—their friends and family would never allow them to do so. Anthony would hire a wedding planner to take care of everything for them, but Mari and Melanie had effectively stopped him, telling him that it would be nicer if the wedding was planned by the grooms and their close friends so the wedding would have a personal touch.

Anthony sighs, removing his sunglasses as he walks down the stone steps, towards the white gazebo at the end of the short walkway between the rows of seats. The white gazebo, where Kalel and Mari are waiting, is made of wood and covered in starburst lilies and white cloth.

“Uh,” Ian says, looking at the gazebo before them. He, too, removes his sunglasses and puts them on top of his head.

The venue is small and beautiful, one of the many garden wedding venues Kalel had insisted he and Ian check out. The grass beneath his feet is green and freshly-mowed, and there are rectangular bushes around the venue, no doubt arranged by a landscape engineer. There are palm trees near the front, and a gorgeous view of the sea.

It’s beautiful, really. Anthony can see that even Ian likes it by the way his eyes are roaming around the place, noting details. However, Anthony can also see that he and Ian _hate_ the gazebo.

“What do you think?” Kalel asks, a smile on her face as she looks around the place. She’s dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a black tee that hangs off one shoulder.

“I think it’s beautiful,” Anthony says truthfully. He glances at Ian and almost laughs when he sees him eyeing the white cloth wrapped around the pillars of the gazebo.

“You hate it, don’t you?” Mari says, glancing at Ian.

Ian shrugs, turning his attention back to Mari and Kalel. “I think it’s okay, really.”

Anthony sighs. “Seriously, though. I know you hate the gazebo.”

Ian sighs, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I hate it,” he admits. He glances at Kalel. “Sorry,” he adds, unhelpfully. “I like the rest, though.”

Anthony looks at the rows of seats before him. “I think the venue’s pretty nice as well, but I don’t think it’s going to accommodate the guests.”

“You’re right,” Kalel says, before slipping her sunglasses over her eyes once again. She starts to walk down the steps of the gazebo, graceful and demanding attention as always. “I’ll go meet you guys at the next venue?”

Anthony looks at Ian and offers him a small smile. He and Ian would both prefer to have a small wedding with only their closest friends and family in attendance, but they know it’s not possible, especially when some of the high-ranking Youtube employees have offered to be their videographers for the wedding in exchange, of course, for the privilege to be able to post the video on Youtube.

Anthony and Ian both stay in the gazebo, watching as Mari and Kalel down the aisle, up the stone steps, and towards the parking lot.

“Fuck this,” Ian says, the moment Kalel and Mari disappear from their view. He looks at Anthony with mischief and just a little bit of desperation in his blue eyes. “Let’s go get married at the courthouse. I can go text my mom and dad. They’ll be okay with it.”

Anthony grins. He _knows_ Stephan and Cheryl would be okay with it. It’s _his_ mom who wouldn’t approve.

“I would love to go get married at the courthouse,” Anthony says, despite looking at the beautiful venue before him. He can hear the waves crash onto the shore behind him, and truth be told, he can actually see himself getting married here. Problem is, however, he can only see himself getting married here if he were getting married to Kalel.

And that’s not the case.

As Anthony slips his sunglasses over his eyes and walks down the steps and across the garden, Ian walking beside him, Anthony thinks that it doesn’t really matter where, when, or how he’s getting married, as long as the _who_ is Ian.

“But?” Ian asks as they walk up the stone steps.

“But you know our friends and some family members would never approve,” Anthony says. “Plus, can you imagine what that would do to the fans?”

Ian laughs, shaking his head. “I can already imagine the fanfics, Anthony. Don’t remind me.”

“You know,” Anthony says, getting the car keys from the pocket of his jeans, “Mari’s still trying to convince us to have a beach wedding. What do you think?”

Ian shrugs. “You know I would prefer to get married at the courthouse,” he says, waiting for Anthony to press the button on the car keys before opening the door and getting inside. Anthony waits for Ian to finish buckling his seat belt before turning the key in the ignition.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Anthony says, looking behind before putting the car in reverse.

Ian hums under his breath for a moment, looking outside—at the lush green garden and the palm trees softly swaying to the salty breeze of the ocean, at the white pagoda and the white chairs. “I think I like garden venues more than beaches.”

Anthony straightens in his seat, his hands sure and steady on the steering wheel as he starts to drive out the parking lot. “I like gardens better too. Better to reserve the beach for the honeymoon,” Anthony says with a smile on his face as he glances at Ian.

Ian returns his smile, though Anthony thinks Ian’s smile is more devious than his.

“What about halls?” Ian asks, looking at Anthony. “I think there are much more halls that could accommodate our guests than gardens.”

Anthony shrugs. “I suggested that, but Kalel and Mari insisted that gardens are better. Since we’re having the reception in a hall, we should have the ceremony in a different setting, apparently.”

Ian nods slowly. Anthony knows that Ian’s thinking everything over in his head, knows that every single detail that’s in Ian’s head right now would be forgotten the moment they exit the car. Anthony has always told Ian to keep a little notebook in which he could write down his ideas for the wedding—because close friend or not, Kalel’s ideas will be secondary to Ian’s regarding the wedding—but it seems that either Ian has forgotten to bring it, or that he just can’t be bothered to get it.

“That makes sense,” Ian says. “So we should just check out garden venues. No beaches, no halls.”

Anthony looks at Ian from the corner of his eyes. “We still have to check out halls for the reception,” Anthony says, smiling when he hears Ian curse under his breath.

“How can we be this deep in shit already? We only got engaged like, a month ago!” Ian says, shaking his head. There’s a smile on his face though, and Anthony is comforted by the fact that he’s not suffering through this entire process alone.

“Don’t ask me,” Anthony says, pushing on the brake pedal when the traffic light turns red. “I don’t know either. I _do_ know, however, that our friends are already betting on who’s going to be the first one to snap between us.”

Ian laughs. Anthony loves the sound of Ian’s laugh, a sudden burst that expresses just how Anthony caught Ian unaware.

“Is Sohinki part of that?” Ian asks. At Anthony’s nod, Ian laughs even harder, shaking his head. “So that’s why he called me at around one in the morning yesterday, telling me the merits of getting a DJ versus getting a band.”

“We’re getting a DJ, right?” Anthony asks, glancing at Ian for a moment before looking back at the road, his foot pressing down on the pedal.

Ian shoots him a look. “Of course.”

“Good,” Anthony says. He knew that they would agree on a lot of things—DJ included—but it’s always nice to hear affirmation.

“Anyway, what do they mean by ‘snap’?”

Anthony shrugs, turning the steering wheel. “Probably the first one to actually yell? I’m not really sure. You know I’m not supposed to know about this.”

“So Sohinki bet on me,” Ian says, nodding slowly. “Am I going to get calls at one in the morning from now on?”

Anthony grins. “Probably. You know Sohinki.”

“Very comforting, thanks.”

Anthony laughs. “I’m just saying!”

“See, now I’m suspicious of Mari and Kalel,” Ian says, a smile on his face. He’s looking out his window, at the other cars on the highway, but Anthony can tell that he’s amused. “They probably bet on you.”

Shrugging, Anthony switches lanes. “If they did, they haven’t made me frustrated to the point of yelling, yet. Anyway,” Anthony says as he takes the next exit, his hands steady on the steering wheel, “any requirements for the garden? Since we’ve more or less agreed on that setting?”

Ian looks away from the window. Even though Anthony is looking straight at the road, he can feel Ian’s eyes burning on his skin, urging him to meet Ian’s gaze. Anthony glances at Ian and smiles when he sees Ian’s eyes, vivid and blue in this exact moment in Anthony’s car on a warm Saturday afternoon.

“No wooden gazebos,” Ian says, serious. “No old-style gazebos covered in white cloth and flowers.”

Anthony smiles. “That’s fair.”

“To be honest, I’d be fine if there was no gazebo at all,” Ian says, “but I’m guessing we have to be somewhere noticeable or something.”

“We could always pitch a tent,” Anthony says, laughing.

Ian shakes his head, his eyes closed. “I’m pretty sure Kalel isn’t the one the guys are betting on to snap, Anthony.”

Anthony looks at Ian, illuminated by the sunlight, and smiles.

Tent, gazebo, or nothing at all, Anthony can’t wait to get married to this man.

-.-.-.-

No, but seriously. Anthony can’t wait to get married to Ian.

There is a black binder in front of him as thick as a dictionary, the pages in different colors and different sizes, with some pieces of paper sticking out of the cover.

“What is this?” Anthony asks, his hands still in the air. He looks at Noah and Keith, before looking at the gargantuan _thing_ in front of him that he really doesn’t want to touch, because he just _knows_ that it has something to do with the wedding.

Noah and Keith look at each other, before Noah speaks up. “Well, it’s a collection of caterers.”

Anthony blinks, before looking back down at the binder. Honestly, is he going to have to go through this entire thing with Ian? Can’t they just…order take out or something?

“These are all just caterers?” Anthony asks, a disbelieving look on his face. He can hear Joven laughing from about four cubicles away, but he pays him no mind, still looking at the binder before him. Gingerly, he reaches out for the binder, afraid that it will collapse in on itself.

“Yup,” Keith says, almost proud. “We’ve put together the best caterers in the United States.”

Anthony blinks. Did he hear right? “United States,” he repeats. “The best caterers in the United States.”

Noah nods, a smile on his face. Anthony can hear Joven laughing even harder, that bastard.

“Is there, uhh, any chance that you guys arranged this geographically?” Anthony asks, opening the binder and looking at the first page, because even though this is a lot of work, Anthony and Ian do still need to find a caterer.

Keith grins at him, and Anthony can almost swear that he can see mischief in Keith’s eyes. “We arranged them alphabetically.”

“Alphabetically? As in, arranged them by state, and then arranged the states alphabetically?” Anthony asks, hopeful. He would hand this entire binder to Kalel, seeing as Kalel has pretty much assigned herself to be Ian and Anthony’s wedding planner, but Kalel would tell him to suck it up and choose, because Kalel is just there to give them options.

“Nah,” Noah says, shaking his head. “We arranged them alphabetically, as in the names of the catering services alphabetically,” he explains, and Anthony sees deviousness in the quirk of his smile.

Anthony sighs. The kid’s been here for a few months, and already there are bad influences in his life, like Keith, because Anthony just _knows_ Keith put Noah up to this. Keith was probably even the one who introduced Noah to the ongoing bet.

Despite the growing frustration in his chest, Anthony doesn’t yell. He’s not actually angry, for one, and he can actually kind of appreciate what Noah and Keith have done. If they hadn’t handed him the binder, Anthony’s pretty sure that he and Ian would procrastinate until Kalel finds a caterer for them in exasperation.

“Well,” Anthony says, his eyes looking over the first page—a white bond paper where an article from a magazine about _Abe’s Catering Services_ is glued—before looking back up at Noah and Keith’s hopeful faces. Anthony lets a small smile appear on his face. Noah and Keith are no doubt waiting for him to yell. He’s not going to give them the satisfaction. “Thanks, I guess,” Anthony says.

Noah and Keith walk away, disappointment radiating off them. Anthony grins when he finds Ian walking towards him from the opposite direction of where Noah and Keith are headed to, and Anthony raises the binder, giving Ian a look.

Ian understands what Anthony means immediately. He may not know that the binder is about caterers and that it was given by Noah and Keith, but Anthony knows that Ian has more or less guessed that it has something to do with the wedding. And nothing _that_ big and _that_ filled with papers can be good.

“Nope,” Ian says, shaking his head and walking past Anthony’s cubicle. “Nope, nope, nope. You’re on your own.”

Anthony laughs. He’s not worried.

He knows he’ll be able to get Ian to look at the entire thing with him later.

-.-.-.-

“So I’m guessing Keith, Noah, Kalel, and Mari are betting against you,” Ian says as he struggles to reign in a sleepy yawn. Anthony watches Ian rub his eyelids with one hand before blinking rapidly and looking back down at the binder.

Anthony sighs, flopping on the bed. He closes his eyes. Anthony feels so damn tired. He wants nothing more than to just sleep already, but currently, his and Ian’s bed is filled with ripped out pages from the binder—pages on catering services that aren’t based in California.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now,” Ian says, a weak chuckle making its way past his lips.

Anthony sighs and opens his eyes, grabbing his phone from the nightstand. He groans when he sees the time. “It’s already two in the morning. Can we just continue this later, or possibly, never?” Anthony asks, sitting up slowly before looking back down at the binder. It’s already two in the morning, and they’re only at letter G.

From the bed, Anthony can see Pip sleeping peacefully in his bed, and Anthony feels a pang of jealousy in his gut before he feels Ian’s head fall on his shoulder and feels Ian’s hot breath on the underside of his jaw. Smiling softly, Anthony puts an arm around Ian’s shoulders, the faded green shirt that Ian loves to wear inside the house soft under the palm of Anthony’s hand. From here, he can smell the scent of Ian’s hair—the scent of mint from Ian’s favorite shampoo is fading, yes, but it’s still there—and Anthony takes a moment to appreciate the fact that in less than a year, he’s getting married to his best friend.

Anthony may be stressed and sleepy, but if getting married to Ian at the end of all of this will be the outcome, he’ll gladly go over the preparations for the wedding three times.

“You’re right. We can do this tomorrow,” Ian says, his voice soft.

Anthony smiles. He loves having Ian next to him, warm and comforting him just by being there. In many ways, Ian makes Anthony stable, makes him feel grounded.

A shrill sound breaks the silence, and Ian groans, reaching for his phone on the night stand beside his side of the bed. Anthony watches as Ian opens his eyes and sits up straight, bringing the phone to his ear and answering without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?”

Anthony stifles a laugh when he sees Ian slowly drag one hand down his face. “Oh,” Ian says, giving Anthony a _look_ that just barely encompasses how tired and frustrated he is. “Hey Joven.”

Anthony laughs, standing up from the bed and stretching slowly, knowing that Ian’s watching the show. Anthony lets himself enjoy the sound of his joints popping, lets himself enjoy the feeling of finally stretching sore limbs. He feels like he could sleep for the entire weekend, if only their friends will let them.

Sighing in relief, Anthony stands up straight and starts collecting the pieces of paper that they’ve separated from the binder. He’s starting to think that Noah and Keith only picked ten caterers based in California.

“Hm? Yes, I’m awake. No, you didn’t wake me up,” Ian says, and Anthony can hear the tiredness in Ian’s voice.

Smiling, Anthony brings the stack of papers to be recycled to his desk, coming back to the bed to get the black binder.

Ian sighs. From the corner of his eyes, Anthony watches as Ian pinches the bridge of his nose with the hand unoccupied by his phone. “Yes,” Ian says, his eyes closed in frustration, “I’m sure that I’d like to talk to you first before I go to sleep. No, I don’t want to take a nap.”

Anthony laughs, shaking his head. He removes his jeans and shirt, smiling to himself when he sees Ian watching him, his eyes focused on the newly-revealed skin. Anthony takes a moment to put his shirt and jeans in the laundry basket before walking to the bed and slipping under the covers.

“Joven,” Ian says, infinitely patient, “I’m sure the guy’s great, really. However, I’m also pretty sure that I don’t need a bridal gown on my wedding.”

Ian lies down, having already changed into comfier clothes before he and Anthony started looking through the binder. “Yes, I’m sure.  Unless Anthony decides we need a bridal gown,” Ian says, looking at Anthony and laughing.

Ian’s laugh, as pretty as it sounds, is different though. Anthony can tell. It’s a weaker version of Ian’s usual laugh, something Ian has mastered to cover up times when he’s genuinely feeling insecure or uncomfortable about the situation.

Anthony knows what Ian’s thinking about, what Ian’s _worried_ about.

With one hand, Anthony reaches for whatever part of Ian he can reach to get his attention—his forearm—and gives Ian a soft smile, before shaking his head, or at least an approximate of it. This is Anthony’s way of saying that he has no doubts, and definitely no regrets.

Ian shoots him a brighter grin, the one that Anthony loves to see. He’s relieved. More importantly, he’s happy.

“Yep. Okay, yeah. I’ll listen to your ideas some other time, okay? I’m going to sleep. Bye,” Ian says hurriedly, trying to get off the phone before Joven starts giving him more lectures on cloth.

Anthony laughs as Ian cuddles close to him. “So I’m guessing Joven and Sohinki both bet against you, huh?”

Ian’s voice is muffled when he says, “shut up and go to sleep.”

With a smile, Anthony turns the lamp on his nightstand off.

-.-.-.-

“Are we saying yes to the Youtube guys?” Ian asks as he sits down at the dining table, his small notebook in hand. “You know, for the videographer offer thing?”

It’s a sunny Friday afternoon. Ian and Anthony had managed to get out of work earlier than usual since they’ve already finished what they were supposed to finish anyway.

The moment they both stepped into their apartment, Anthony thinks he heard Ian sigh in relief. Anthony can’t blame him—the guys must _really_ be dedicated to winning that bet.

Anthony looks up from his bowl of fruit. “I don’t know, do you want to say yes?” he asks, sitting up straight. He feels _exhausted_ , and though he wants to get married to Ian, he really doesn’t want to discuss anything wedding-related right now.

Ian shrugs. “If we say yes, the service is free. I mean, we don’t even have to look through lists of videographers anymore.”

Anthony takes a moment to think. “Yeah,” he says slowly, “but I know you’re not comfortable with private things being made public, and money isn’t really an issue here. I’m sure we can find a videographer who’s not asking for too much.”

Ian watches Anthony stab a piece of banana with his fork, taking a moment to think. “You’re right,” he says, nodding. “Are you planning to post a vlog? Because I feel like it would be disrespectful if we don’t take Youtube up on their offer and then post a vlog of our own.”

Anthony chews his strawberry slowly, thinking about it. He _was_ actually thinking about vlogging, but he never thought of posting said vlog on Youtube, wanting that vlog to be something that’s just _theirs_ and not something they’ll have to share with the fans. However, he _does_ want to give Youtube and the fans _something_ , seeing as both entities are partially responsible for getting him to finally remove his head out of his ass and date Ian.

“I _was_ thinking of vlogging,” Anthony confesses, “but I wasn’t thinking of posting that vlog. I just wanted it to be something we can watch again, you know? I’ve seen some wedding videos, and they look too formal. In some cases, they even look like they were staged, you know? _Unnatural_. I don’t want that.”

“Well, we can take Youtube up on their offer, but set limitations,” Ian says, writing something down on his notebook. “I mean, I’m sure they’ll understand. I doubt they’d really post the entire video from the beginning of the ceremony to the end of the reception on Youtube. We can get them to cut certain parts. We can probably also get something from them that we can post on our channel?”

“Like what?”

Ian shrugs, looking up from his notebook. His eyes look grayer today, Anthony notices, like the sea reflecting clouds in the sky during a rainy day.

“I don’t know. Maybe we can just do a special Lunchtime or something,” Ian suggests, looking at Anthony dead in the eye.

Anthony smiles softly. He knows Ian would prefer privacy, and to be honest, he does, too. Their wedding shouldn’t be a huge spectacle if they don’t want it to be, and it should definitely not be used as something to advance their brand.

Anthony reaches for Ian’s left hand and holds it in his right, giving it a little squeeze. “We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. If you want to post a vlog on our channel, Youtube will understand. We can go and hire a videographer.”

“Are you sure?” Ian asks, but there’s a hopeful look in his eyes, and that, more than anything, is what makes Anthony nod and say, “definitely.”

Anthony leans forward, enveloped as he is by the sheer _want_ running through his veins to kiss Ian, but just as he does so, Ian’s phone rings, a shrill sound that Anthony has come to hate. With a groan, Anthony drops back into his chair, watching as Ian shoots him an apologetic look before answering his phone.

“Oh,” Ian says, giving Anthony a look, “hi Flitz.”

Anthony resists the urge to groan and bang his head on the table. How the hell did Flitz even get the timing right?

His eyes widening, Anthony takes a look around the apartment. Surely the guys aren’t desperate enough to actually plant cameras, right? Anthony’s pretty sure that shit’s illegal.

“Yes, we have a caterer. No, we haven’t got a photographer yet. Yes, I’m wearing a tux. No, we don’t need you to buy us lube and condoms for the honeymoon,” Ian says, his eyes closed as he drags a hand down his face in exasperation. “We’re great, trust me. We’re opening gifts the next day with family, don’t you _dare_ give us a vibrator as a wedding gift. I’d rather not explain that to my mom, thanks.”

Anthony laughs, surprised. Shaking his head, he gets a slice of apple from his bowl and eats it, slowly chewing as he continues to listen to Ian’s side of the conversation with Flitz.

Ian sighs, his eyes opening and immediately searching out Anthony’s to send him a “ _help me”_ look. “We don’t need birth control pills, Flitz,” he says softly, like a man who has admitted defeat.

Anthony grins.

He honestly can’t wait to get married.

-.-.-.-

After 11 months of wedding preparations, Anthony can finally breathe a sigh of relief. They’re almost done with everything, and miraculously, neither he nor Ian has snapped at any of their friends. The stakes are probably high now, seeing as he and Ian keep getting calls in the middle of the night—no thanks to Wes, Olivia, Kalel, and Sohinki—and, on one memorable occasion, in the middle of sex. Until now, Anthony still doesn’t know how Lasercorn timed his call so well.

With only a week before the wedding, there’s only one last thing Anthony has to do before finally walking down the aisle with Ian.

“How come I don’t know about this?” Anthony asks, looking at the people crowded outside the apartment. It’s nine o’clock in the evening, and really, Anthony was looking forward to getting some sleep—he and Ian had spent the past few days shooting a multitude of videos so they would be able to enjoy their honeymoon without having problems over their channel—but apparently, his friends have other ideas.

They’re complete, too, with Kalel and Melanie in front of the others. As much as Anthony’s thankful that Melanie took the time to catch a flight so she could attend his and Ian’s wedding, now, he’s not feeling as thankful anymore seeing as he’s pretty sure that this is something she and Kalel planned.

“Well, it’s supposed to be a surprise!” Melanie says in an overly-cheerful tone for someone who’s basically suggesting to stay up until sunrise at a club somewhere.

Anthony is unimpressed. He doesn’t open his door further, not wanting to let his friends in and have even more ammunition against him. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t plan a bachelor’s party,” he says slowly, before looking behind him, his eyes seeking out Ian. He finds Ian relaxing at the dining table with a glass of water and his laptop on the table before him. “Did you plan this?”

Ian looks up at him and, by extension, the crowd behind him. His eyebrows raise a little. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “But if it’s any consolation, they did this to me last week, don’t worry.”

Anthony’s eyes widen. “Were there strippers involved?”

Ian blinks. “Yup,” he says, before directing his focus back on the laptop before him.

“Male or female?” Anthony asks, turning his body to face Ian. He still doesn’t let go of the door.

Ian looks up from his laptop. “Both,” he says, truthful.

Oh. Anthony feels jealousy grip his chest tight.

Ian gives him a grin. “Don’t be jealous. There was no touching, I swear.”

“How come I didn’t know about this?” Anthony asks not unkindly, just in a curious manner.

“Are you guys really going to ignore the crowd of people outside your apartment?” Lasercorn asks.

Ian ignores him. “Well, I couldn’t tell you. I knew they wanted to throw you a party too.”

“So I should go?” Anthony asks.

“Yes!” the entire crowd outside his door answers.

Sighing, Anthony looks longingly at his bed. He honestly wants to just go to sleep, but hey, he’ll be able to rest when this is all over.

“All right,” he says, walking away from the door. “Let me change my clothes.”

He just hopes he’s not making a mistake.

-.-.-.-

The club— _Velvet Sin_ —is a place that looks like something Joven would choose. It’s not filled with people—it _is_ a Tuesday evening, after all—but it’s not entirely barren, either, like how Anthony would prefer it to be if he’s just going to be embarrassed by drunk friends. The bar dominates the wall opposite the entrance, with high, black stools placed by the wooden counter. In the middle of the floor is a raised circular platform with a stripper pole in the middle, a woman in America-themed underwear slowly dancing to the music while she holds onto the pole with one hand.

Anthony looks at the place, looks at the black tiles and the strobe lights, at the circular booths located all around and at the doors located on the left and right walls, and thinks he’s going to be sick.

“Are you sure this place is legal?” Anthony asks nobody in particular as he watches the woman on the platform wink at those seated around her little stage.

As expected, it’s Joven who replies. “Yep, don’t worry.”

“Relax a little, geez. We’re here to relax!” Lasercorn says, before walking towards a circular booth located near one of the black doors. It’s only a short distance away from the bar, as well, and Anthony takes a moment to breathe deeply.

Everything will be fine. The place won’t be randomly searched for by the police and they won’t lose their dignities.

An hour passes by. Gradually, Anthony starts to loosen up, though he doesn’t drink much, despite the urging of his friends. He still has work the next day, after all, and there’s still a couple of videos he and Ian have to finish shooting before the wedding. Instead, Anthony watches with amusement as Wes, Keith, and Joven try drinking their body weight in tequila shots, and watches with a sense of dread as Flitz urges Sohinki to try vodka.

Anthony’s already anticipating the vomiting fest the next day, really.

What he’s most surprised about, however, is that his friends don’t try to bring him a stripper who would give him a lap dance or something. Instead, they just keep on drinking, and it’s almost like a normal hangout, except Anthony decides to ask his friends just _why_ they haven’t gotten him a stripper yet, and then _things go directly to hell._

“Oh, so you wanted a stripper?” Mari asks, her eyes alight with mischief.

Anthony starts shaking his head. “Nope, no, I’m okay.”

“We can go get you a stripper!” Olivia says, standing up enthusiastically and walking to the bar.

Anthony bites his lip. Why did he even _ask_? “I’m fine, guys, I swear,” he says, desperation bleeding into his tone of voice. “I was just asking—”

“Nonsense,” a drunk Sohinki says. “We’ll go get you one!”

It’s not too long before Olivia’s back at their booth and handing Anthony a key, motioning to the nearest door with her head. “If you go through there, you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

To be perfectly honest, Anthony feels almost _scared_. “Is there a bed there? I’m not cheating on my fiancé!”

Kalel rolls her eyes. “Just go, Anthony. Don’t you have faith in us?”

Anthony looks at his friends who are, in his opinion, looking too devious in their drunken states. “No!” he says, shaking his head.

Melanie shrugs. “Man’s got a point.”

“Just go,” Wes says, and Anthony had really expected Wes to be the voice of reason here, but apparently _not_. “You’ll enjoy it, we promise.”

Sighing, Anthony stands up and gets the key from the table. Slowly, he walks to the black door, not looking forward to having some stranger dance on his lap.

With slightly shaking hands, Anthony slots the key into the lock and turns, a soft click indicating that the door is unlocked. He turns the knob and starts to say, “I’m sorry, but there’s been a change of plans” when he finally sees just who is standing there and the words die in his throat.

In front of him is Ian in a form-fitting suit, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Like what you see?” he asks, and Anthony quickly closes the door behind him before striding towards Ian and taking his face in his hands, kissing his mouth like a man desperate for affection.

After a few seconds, Anthony and Ian pull away from each other, soft smiles on their faces. “Go sit down,” Ian finally says after a couple more seconds, his breathing heavy. “You came here for a special service, right?”

Nodding, Anthony makes his way to the leather seat placed against the wall across the door. It’s dark here, with only the lava lamp-like source of light placed a couple of feet above the back of the couch providing light in the small room.

Anthony watches as Ian walks toward the door and locks it, before turning and facing Anthony once again. Suddenly, a pop song starts playing on the speakers, something Anthony vaguely recognizes as something that’s probably a Top 40 hit.

When the woman starts singing, Anthony realizes that it’s “I Really Like You” by Carly Rae Jepsen. He raises an eyebrow. It’s not exactly the right music to strip to, or the right music to give a lap dance to, both of which are things Anthony is looking forward to.

He really shouldn’t have worried about it, because what Ian’s doing in front of him is not a strip dance, and _definitely_ not a lap dance. Instead, Anthony watches with a grin on his face as Ian does a ridiculous dance that Anthony’s pretty sure Ian’s making up on the spot, doing the chicken dance for a couple of moments before moving onto the _Macarena_.

“I really, really, really, really, really, really like you,” Ian sings along to the song, meeting Anthony’s eyes with a fake sultry look on his face, before attempting to do the wave with outstretched hands.

Anthony laughs. There’s a possibility that Ian’s drunk as well, but then again, there’s also a possibility that he’s not drunk, and that they really planned this. Lap dance or no, this might just be the best bachelor’s party ever.

Apparently, Anthony spoke too soon.

When the bridge starts, Ian crouches on the floor before crawling to Anthony, his hands firmly gripping the upper part of Anthony’s thighs. Anthony watches as Ian puts himself in between Anthony’s spread out legs, watches as Ian slowly moves up, using his grip on Anthony’s thighs to help himself stand up on the floor, watches as Ian puts one knee on the edge of the seat—just against Anthony’s crotch—his breath hot against Anthony’s neck as he softly sings along to the song, “I don’t know how to act or if I should be leaving.”

“Don’t,” Anthony breathes out, the word coming to his mouth despite having no direction from his brain to do so.

Ian shoots him a smirk, before he proceeds to lick up the side of Anthony’s neck and suck on his earlobe. Anthony groans, his eyes closing in pleasure, lust clouding his mind. He can no longer hear the music, can no longer discern anything that’s not Ian basically giving him the hottest dance ever. He can feel Ian move his knee so that Anthony’s erection is rubbing against it, and Anthony moans, finally letting his arms envelop Ian.

Too soon, the song is over, with Ian singing, “I really, really, really, really, really, really like you, and I want you. Do you want me? Do you want me too?”

The room is silent, their harsh panting the only thing that could be heard. When Anthony has finally caught his breath, he chuckles, deep and gravelly. “I really like you too.”

Ian laughs, surprised, throwing his head forward. His suit is rumpled and it probably won’t be saved anymore, but neither of them care, both of them remaining in their positions.

“Good,” Ian says, starting to stand up, “considering we’re getting married in a week.”

Anthony’s eyes widen when he sees Ian walk to the door and unlock it, turning the knob to open it. “Wait, where are you going? Aren’t you going to finish the service?”

Ian _winks_ , and leaves.

“Ian!” Anthony yells out, standing up from the couch, but when he gets to the door, Ian is gone.

“Does that count as a yell? Did he finally snap?” Anthony hears Kalel ask from the booth.

“We won!” Lasercorn shouts, before the entire booth raises their glasses in celebration.

Groaning, Anthony drags a hand down his face.

He can’t wait to get married.

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own Smosh. I do not make money from this.


End file.
